


One mans shoes

by Tazmosis



Category: Personal struggle - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 13:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15438024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tazmosis/pseuds/Tazmosis
Summary: This is the story of a country pastor that had his life turned sideways





	One mans shoes

**Chapter 1**

 

            On a bright and sunny Sunday, Pastor Earl did what he always did.  He greeted the Sun and fixed breakfast for his wife and children.  It was a special day and special days called for special breakfasts.  This special breakfast was a sort of meal that could have been defined as 'As big as the Montana sky'.   Earl and his beloved wife of 20 years had an ongoing, yet highly entertaining argument of the nomenclature of their breakfast foods.  She insisted that he fixed a Denver frittata, he argued that it was a just a sharable Montana omelet; In Earl's defense, it was impressively big. 

 

                Earl and his wife, Miriam had spent years laughing and arguing over merits of breakfast items.   Sometimes the pros and cons of patty versus linked sausages, waffles over pancakes, but most famously the Denver frittata going mano-e-mano against his Montana omelet; when he was losing he'd fall back on his calling and tell her she was a heathen and a traitor to Big Sky country; he might occasionally accuse her of being a Bronco's fan, if he was desperate.   It wasn't even all together out of the realm of possibility that he'd try to rally his congregation to this cause.  That was why today was special.  Today was the day of his church picnic, and then this would be settled once and for all, and Miriam would know that he was right.  Earl and Miriam did, however, agree about biscuits over muffins though, some things were sacred.

 

                It was just about 6:30 AM, time to roust the family, breakfast was on the table.  Earl wasn't an old man, not to him, he was barely into his 50's, he'd tell you he's still a young man, but his back didn't always agree with his proclamations .  He poked his head in on his wife and heard music and her singing.  He loved when she sang, she was an angel in the choir, but this time, it was a song he hadn't heard her sing recently.  "The only one that could ever teach me, was the son of a preacher man..."  He also saw that Miriam was 'dressed for church picnic politics'.  She was a slender woman, also is her early 50's, but time had been kind to her, she hadn't yet seen a gray hair, her milk maid skin was yet to see a wrinkle and she could still out hokey pokey all those little ones.  She was dressed in her blue dress with pink polka dots; modest at the knee and bust line, with her string of pearls around her neck.  She's picked this outfit because she drew some comparisons to Lucille Ball.  That played big with the congregation.

 

                "Shake a leg, sweet pea.  Breakfast is on the table and today's the day.  Are you sure you want this showdown?  You're gonna lose, you know.  But the dress is a nice touch, Lucy".

 

                Earl was greeted with a stuffed kangaroo bouncing off his chest.  "Today's the day you pick to be on time?  That's a first.".   Miriam strode across the room, smiled, wrapped her arms around Earl’s waist and kissed him good morning.  "Mind your manners preacher man, or I'll use a real kangaroo next time.  And when you tell me I'm right, I want to you to say into the microphone this time, I want everyone to hear that.  And you can't ask the boss for help.".

 

                Earl made his way down the hall, banging on one door and opening the other.  Earl learned early on that opening his daughter's door unexpectedly could cause a crisis.  Faith was thirteen years old and a thirteen year old girl is both body conscious and occasionally about as moody as a badger.  Knocking on her door he was greeted with her muffled voice of "Morning Dad, I'll be right there".  So far, so good.

 

                Jobe, didn't answer his door, not anything unusual.  He was 15 and slept like that little possum in the cartoons, anywhere, anytime.  In his defense though, Jobe was a hard working kid.  He was on the baseball team; both school and church, a good student and leader of his prayer group.  More often than not, Earl understood that the boy might need a nap, and naps were cheap.

 

                 "Jobe!, haul it out of bed son, breakfast is ready and it's time to get moving".

                "Sure Dad, I'm moving.  Pancakes?".

                "Get up and find out.".

 

                 Earl was pleasantly surprised to see that his family made it to the table reasonably quickly  and surprisingly well dressed, primarily his son.  He'd made an issue over today, they all knew he had a personal stake in the picnic, he always did as pastor, but they were set to have debate between Him and Miriam as to whether or not, an omelet was a frittata.  Earl had even managed to stir up quite a buzz about it at the community meetings.  Faith had devoutly asked him to not do his happy dance, and in that same breath, Jobe has suggested that his usual victory dance, might not be victorious enough.  Earl loved his kids, but also understood cats and dogs don't always agree.

                 "What no pancakes?"

 

                 Jobe was greeted by his mother with a flick of his ear and a scolding.  "Mind your manner, sir.  Your father worked hard on this, even if this is just a Denver frittata."  Miriam beamed at her husband. 

 

                 Earl shot his bride he best 'stink eye', chuckled, and then led his family to their breakfast prayer.  After which, Jobe seemed to have forgotten about those pancakes, and proceeded to devour the majority of Earl's Montana omelet and most of the rest of the meal, and came dangerously close to leaving teeth marks on his plate.

 

                 Church services went off well; Earl was on his game, his collar was bright white, his kids weren't arguing and by the time the he'd wrapped up his sermon, the light beamed through the window, falling squarely on him.  Earl humbly thanked the providence of God and reminded everyone that he was just a servant of a higher power.  The true grace was from the Lord he told them.  God has a plan for everyone and his will brought them all together today for worship and in his glory, in their community and maybe to settle a score.  Earl grinned at Miriam, Miriam rolled her eyes, Jobe smirked at his father, the congregation chuckled and Faith hid her face behind her auburn hair.  'You can't win 'em all.', he supposed.

 

            Later that afternoon, Earl had changed out of his formal wear and was now casually wearing a pastel plaid, short sleeve shirt, shorts, Seahawks cap and his favorite 'Kiss the Cook' apron.  Earl looked the like the poster boy for being a small town dad.  He was reasonably slender, but his attire hid the fact that he enjoyed pan fried potatoes and his cap almost hid his is salt and pepper hair.  He'd finished up grilling up hot dogs, sausages and hamburgers for what looked to be the entire town.  Attendance sometimes dipped during football season, but the picnics always drew a big crowd.

  
                "Pastor Earl, We have a gift for you."  That was old Paul.  He always seems to be the spokesman for things, sometimes welcome, sometimes, it was a trial.  "Pastor Earl, you've been with us for 30 years and as long as I can remember, you've never turned one of us away.  We called you in the middle of the night and you came to help.  We cried for our loved ones, and your whole family cried with us.  Your wife cooked when we were hungry and your children watched ours and help carry our groceries.  You've done so much for us, that we decided that we needed to tell you how much we love you."  Old Paul, Dorothy from the market and Sarah from the medical center came forward first, and then the rest of the congregation came forward for form a circle around Earl and his family.  "We decided that you needed a vacation from us".  That drew a chuckle from the crowd.  "We've heard for years, that you had a dream of visiting Rome, and the Vatican and the Sistine chapel.  We decided that we want you to go to Rome and talk to the Pope for us, and maybe you can fix this weather we're having.".  Old Paul tried to hand Earl an envelope with plane tickets, an itinerary, hotel reservations and a couple hundred dollars in spending money; Earl couldn't move.  Miriam stepped forward for her husband and while she was equally speechless, she was, at least, mobile.

 

                 It was Faith that spoke for her parents.  "Paul, everyone, we don't know what to say.  Except that we love you too.”  Then she hugged a balding old fellow with a trucker cap and a bolo tie.  Paul was faithful old man that didn't miss a service.  She's known him for as long as she could remember and recalled being scolded for throwing rocks and hitting him in the shins.  Paul liked to tell that story about how he saved her hide on that.

 

                 If Pastor Earl had any sort of personal dignity left, he lost it at the church picnic.  He, and Miriam, broke down into tears at the generosity of the town of Simmerston, Montana.  Earl and Miriam then proceeded to hug everyone in attendance, without exception and over objection, some got hugged twice, just for good measure.  After going table to table to thank everyone, Earl and Miriam gained their composure and stepped to the microphone stand.  "We don't know how to thank everyone.  I really don't.  I guess all I can say is that I love you all."

 

**Chapter 2**

                Three weeks after the church picnic, Earl was again greeting the Sun and once again set about to fixing breakfast for his family.  He'd gone through his usual routine of waking his wife and kids to get them to the table.  This time however, when he was making rounds of knocking on doors and to receive mumbled replies, he was greeting with resounding silences.

 

                He frowned, his wife was missing; she was there when he hopped out of bed.  Maybe she was tending to the kids.  Nope, no one in Jobe's room.  He absently noted, that Jobe had finally tidied up, "Hmm.... not bad, kid.", but that also concerned him.   He moved quickly down to Faith's room and banged on the door.  No response.  He's decided that a little crisis might be in order, so he opened the door.  "A made bed?  Since when does she make the bed without being threatened with excommunication? ".  Earl got worried, no wife, no kids.  He started checking rooms in the house, this wasn't funny anymore.  He hurried back into kitchen and found that breakfast was missing.  What?  No wife, no kids, no pancakes.  Earl knew he wasn't crazy, but he still looked down to make sure he didn't have his shorts on over his pants and to take sure his shoes matched.  If you're crazy, you might not know you're crazy.

 

                Earl half ran to the front door to see if her car was still there.  He grabbed his own keys off the hook and with a little more force than needed, he snatched his front door open.  There stood, his glowing wife, grinning children, a platter of straight faced pancakes and the entirety of his openly gleeful church congregation. 

 

                With a deep breath, Earl clutched his family, first with joy that they were safe, and then he squeezed just a bit harder, and whispered "I'll get even with you all for this."  He was rewarded with wheezed giggles.  He'd had found his culprits.

 

                Earl looked out the crowd on is front lawn.  He had quite a lawn and this was quite a crowd.  He saw that they'd brought folding tables & clothes, benches, chairs and his neighbors had pulled up their own grills and had frying pans of eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage and those pan fried potatoes that he knew to be more than a little delicious.  He hadn't expected this, based on his experiences, this bunch couldn't keep this sort of a secret, not with Old Paul, or any of those other gossips in that crowd.  This was conspiracy at its finest.  Earl stepped to the top of his porch steps and gave the entire crowd is best 'disapproving dad' look, for about 2 seconds, then he laughed and told everyone to say 2 Hail Mary's before they could have seconds.  Earl loved his largely extended family.

 

                "Pastor, you didn't think we'd let you go off to Rome without a sendoff did you?"  Old Paul came forward, grinning ear to ear.

                "I honestly thought, none of you could keep a secret this big", Earl laughed, hugging that sneaky old that man that, at times, tested his patience, but usually reminded him, that is faith was well founded, Paul's face was written large with love.

 

                Today was a big day though.  Today was the day that Earl and his family headed out for Rome.  He'd spent the last 3 weeks looking at his tickets and travel plans.  He'd also spent that time trying to knock 30 plus years of rust off his high school Italian classes.  4 years of education he never thought he'd have a chance to use; his efforts took an upwards turn when he found Rossetta Stone and Babbel for Italian.  He felt confident that he'd be able to order a pizza and know if he'd been insulted.  They had ten days in Rome.  Ten beautiful days in Rome, not only because they would see the Holy Vatican, and history, but ten beautiful days because he could guess how much this cost his little town, and how much it took for them to give a gift of this magnitude.  The flights were booked for later in the afternoon, from Bozeman to New York and then off to Italy.  Earl has carefully planned out the day.  He'd figured out that he could still deliver today's services and have plenty of time to get to the Airport for their new adventure.  Apparently, his congregation had another idea about that.  Once again, Pastor Earl humbled himself before them.

 

                "Ok, you got me again." Earl grinned, but then turned a bit more serious.  "I'm not sure what to say to this sort of gift.  The only thing I'm sure of, is that I'm blessed, blessed those three troublemakers over there."  Pointing to his opening beaming wife and kids.  "But also blessed with Simmerston.  God has truly given me gift, he gave me all of this.  You are all truly roses among the thorns."  Earl knelt on his front porch in front to the entire town.  "God has blessed me with all of you, and I am you humble servant."

 

                Old Paul stepped up on his step, looked down and placed his right hand on Earl's bowed head.  "Pastor, I talked to the Lord and he wanted me to tell you that you're off duty.   He didn't say as much, but I think he wants me to look after things while you were gone."  With that Old Paul started his benediction.  "Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today, to tell Earl, that he's off the clock for a few days, and it's his turn to enjoy some time off.  The good Lord wants him to know, that we'll keep an eye on each other, and we'll watch for sins and we'll even write 'em all down for when he gets back”. He turned and looked at his Pastor, “But for right now, you can trust the kids with the cake.  We promise we won't burn the house down."

 

                Earl laughed, Paul laughed, Miriam hugged Paul and Jobe surveilled the pancakes.

 

            The crowd was stern and insistent that their pastor was off work this particular Sunday and firmly informed him that The Lord was an understanding entity that knew that love and community was just as important as singing hymns.  Some even went on to inform him that his community ties were a Godly duty for shepherding the well being of his congregation.  A small but motivated, special interest group, then attempted that because all things are from the Lord, wasting those pancakes would be a sin.

 

            Earl listened attentively to the entirety of that rigmarole, and nodded along piously at each of those talking points.  He then stood on his top step, complimented Jobe and rest of those youthful, but apparently starving petitioners and suggested that while they may be straying from the true path a bit, the Lord did also create those pan fried potatoes.  He then proceeded to lead them in a prayer of thanksgiving, followed by a brief sermon on the blessings of charity, that salvation of the Lord and being humble in the presence of thy neighbor.  He thought those were entirety fitting for this day.  Reflecting of the gifts he’d received.

 

**Chapter 3**

            The next 36 hours were a bit of a blur for Earl and his family.  It seemed that they’d been given a parade escort to the airport, an hour away, by more than a few parishioners.  Old Paul and Sarah came along to bring their car home, no sense on wasting parking costs and the rest were just excited to see them off, a few of the accompanying youth were there for Faith, and more than one pretty girl was there to see Jobe. They’d boarded a plane, gotten off, gotten on another and somehow they were in Naples Italy.

 

            Earl had planned and adjusted their itinerary a bit.  He wanted them to adjust for a day in Naples before going to Rome.  He joked to Miriam that if he got the chance to see the Pope, it wouldn’t due to greet him with a full faced yawn.  Miriam had seen that yawn many times, she agreed with him the same way they agreed about biscuits.

 

So it was that they checked into a tidy B&B suite, slept for a few hours, washed up and headed out into the Italian afternoon to see a few sights before dinner.  They made their way to the San Francisco di Paulo as their first visit followed by the Naples Cathedral. Earl had the opportunity to speak with the local priest of the cathedral and decided that he needed to try out his Italian.  Much to his surprise and delight, the local priest, Father Ignacio, after learning of their journey, complimented him on being so fluid in Italian and laughed the Cardinals of Rome would love to speak Italian with Americans.

 

            Again Earl spoke his Italian, “It would be our blessing to see the holy Fathers of the Church.  My congregation has blessed me and my family with this pilgrimage.  They’d hoped that I could speak with the Pope. They decided that I needed a vacation and maybe wanted me out from underfoot for a few days.  They’d also like a bit of cooler weather and some rain for their crops”, he smiled.

 

            Father Ignacio smiled broadly at Pastor Earl and spoke in fluent English, for the benefit of Earl’s family “That is the way of the faithful.  Sometimes they need time for mischief, and then we get to redeem them.”  The priest grinned and the turned a bit more solemn, “Pastor Earl, you are a man blessed with many things.  You’ve been given this beautiful family and your been given a congregation of the faithful, I can see you serve them all well and I can see that they love you.”  Father Ignacio then blessed each of them and embraced Earl.  “Blessings to you, my American friend, this world needs men such as you.”

 

By late afternoon there were wrapping up their last sight, a tour of the Castel Nuevo and decided to sample some the local cuisine.  Jobe had been vocal in his desire to eat.  Father Ignacio had recommended a small, quiet café run by his brother and family.  Earl and his family was greeted warmly by Carlo and was guided to a table with a beautiful view of the harbor.  Earl thought Ignacio may have called ahead, but when asked, Carlo was surprised and summoned his wife Dianna, telling her that this family was a friend of Ignacio.  After that the whole family was treated exactly as if they’d been friends for years.  Again Earl knew that the Lord was watching over him.  Again he committed himself to being worthy of that providence.

 

            Early the following morning they all made their way to a motor coach to Rome, and 4 hours later they’d check into a local hotel tidied up a bit and set off to see the Vatican and the Sistine chapel.  To say that the courtyard of the Vatican was impressive was an understatement, Earl thought.  He felt the immensity of where he was and felt the history of the church.  “This is where the Pope delivered sermons on Easter.  This is where hundreds of years of history has been born.”  He felt the holiness of these stones.  He and his family knelt at the obelisk and prayed in thanks for all they’ve been given. They scheduled to be part of a tour of the Vatican and Sistine chapel and everything was falling into place.  They’d been invited to pray at an altar inside and after several minutes and several turns to see various artifacts, Earl stopped to admire one of the frescos.  He looked around and found they the group had left him, apparently they’d been so busy gazing, they didn’t notice him missing.  He worried a bit; he’d seen those serious looking young men in orange and blue stripped uniforms and he knew they weren’t just ceremonial.  He started trying to remember the way back and realized that he too, had been busy gazing into history to remember his footsteps.  He knew he was lost and decided to try a door or two, he knew he probably wasn’t the first for getting lost.  Earl found himself in a dimly lit balcony looking over a deep audience chamber.  He heard voices speaking in Italian.

 

            “I envy the faith of the masses, James.  I envy the truth they know.   They know the God created them and he is divine.  They know that they are being shepherded for a better salvation.  Their truth is simple, mine is not and I’m tired of this burden.  James, you are the papal secretary, you know the ministrations of the church and the power we hold.  That is why we have to continue to minister to the youth, we need them as much as they feel they need us.”  You are one of the 2 living men …”

 

            Earl quickly slipped back through the door he’d just went through, he didn’t want to know what they were talking about and he didn’t want to speak Italian.  It had been only a few minutes but it could have been hours.  Earl’s head was spinning, he tried very hard to forget what he hadn’t really overheard.  He’d managed to retrace missteps back to the fresco he’d been admiring.  He knew that if he was going to be found and remain out of trouble, he needed to be found on a tour path.  Now though, those fresco colors didn’t seem as bright as they had a few minutes ago.  Barely a few minutes after Earl got back to that fresco, one of those serious young guards strode several paces in front of a second guard, stepping a few feet before 2 cassocked men.  The guard raised his hand to stop the procession, placed his hand on his sidearm and stepped forward to question to question him.

 

            “Stop where you are and do not move”, the Swiss Guard spoke in Italian.  Earl, befuddled by the events of the last few minutes, completely forgot his lessons.  The guard spoke again, in English this time, “Stop where you are and do not move.  What are you doing here?”

 

            Earl stammered quickly, “I’m pastor Earl from America, I’m part of a tour.  My group left me here and I didn’t want to wander around.  I was hoping for someone to find me.”. The guard looked him up and down suspiciously; he didn’t relax his grip on his side arm.  Earl suddenly grew very aware of himself, his hands and that he was in a precarious situation.  He didn't, however, deliver that open mouth yawn he joked about.

 

            One of the cassocked men stepped forward.  “It’s ok, let us be kind to our guests.”.  He was a tall, lean, grayed haired man, Earl recognized him.  He stood in the presence of the Pope.  Earl also recognized his voice as the speaker in that chamber.

 

            Earl was struck with so many conflicting feelings that he lost track of himself.  All he could do is defer to his instincts; he dropped to his knee.  “Your Eminence”. 

 

            The Pope smiled down, reached down and placed his right hand on his bowed head.  Please stand, my son, it’s difficult to speak with you down there.”.  The pope turned to the other cassocked man, “James, call to the tour guide.  Tell him we’ve found a wayward soul.”  Turning back to Earl, “You said you are Pastor Earl?  From America?  I was led to believe that you could speak fluent Italian.  Is this true?

 

            Earl went wide eyed and nodded dumbly, then he forced himself to speak, in Italian, “Yes, your Holiness.  The last few minutes have been heart racing.  I got separated from the tour, that serious looking young man is very serious looking, and I’d hoped to just see you, let alone speak.  And now you know, you me by name and know I speak Italian, it’s been a very busy few minutes.”

 

            “I suppose you are right. James has sent for your tour group, this sometimes happens.  We’ll just need to check your pockets before you leave.”.  Earl looked a bit startled and The Pope chuckled.  He saw that Earl was beginning to ease a bit.  “Father Ignacio of Naples arrived last night on church business.  He’s my cousin and he told me of you, and I must say, you’ve impressed him immensely.  We had breakfast this morning and he could not stop talking about his fluent American friend, from Montana.  Come with me Pastor Earl, we are men of the Church, let us walk together.”. The Pope shooed his guard away a respectful distance and led Earl to a small statuette on a silver pedestal.  “Help me kneel down, my son, let us pray together.”  Both men knelt face to face.  He spoke in a soft, revered tone, that didn’t carry more than a few feet, “Security tells me that you were in a place you shouldn’t have been. They tell me that you may have overheard something private.  Pastor Earl, I now have to choose to trust you to know what, now, only 3 living men know.  This is your burden.  What will you do with this?  Do you know where you are kneeling?  This is Rosa of Lima, she is the patron saint of gardeners.  Will you allow your roses to wither or will you continue to tend to your garden?  Protect it?”.

 

            Earl tried to speak but couldn’t find his voice, he was in private conversation and prayer with the Pope.  To say he was overwhelmed was an understatement.

 

            The Pope reached and gently pulled Earl forward until their foreheads touched and whispered in Italian, “Pastor Earl, God was created by the hands of men.  Everything you think you know, is a lie.  They are sheep to be herded, that is why there are called a flock.  Now you are truly a shepherd.”

 

            Earl knelt there, with the Pope, stunned by the revelation forced upon him.  His head continued to spin for what seemed like hours, but was actually only a few seconds.  Mixed within those few seconds, the tour group returned to that fateful mosaic.  Earl shook himself out of his reverie to see the Pope, still kneeling across from him,  and his family behind another one of those serious young guards.  Earl struggled to get to his feet and saw that the titular head of his church had recovered and moved to the tour group.  Earl didn't trust himself to speak, not yet, all he could do was step over to where his family waited for him.  The Pope has stepped over to the group, hushed his personal guard to allow him to greet these visitors, and proceeded to greet each of them and bestow a blessing.  He then invited the entire group to join him in a prayer for peace and family and salvation.  There, at the statuette of Rosa of Lima, Earl, his family, and 6 people he was barely acquainted with, prayed with one of the most powerful men on Earth, a man whose name will be remembered by history; a man that burdened a simple pastor with an impossible truth.  After the impromptu prayer session concluded, Papal secretary James reminded his eminence that there were further appointments in his day that needed to be attended to. 

 

            With the appearance and subsequent blessing of the Esteemed head of the Church, the Vatican tour wound down quickly.  It seemed to everyone else, as much as they might have enjoyed the rest of the visit, viewing frescos had little comparison to a group photo that was a once in a life time event, for most people on the planet.  It had been Jobe's idea, one that had almost given Earl and Miriam his and her heart attacks, such was the closeness of their marriage.  When the papal secretary had reminded his eminence that there were other duties to attend to, Jobe had spoken, humbly, and asked what seemed to be a request that was so unbelievably offensive and insulting, Earl, and Miriam for that matter, was sure, one of those serious young men might decide to remove Jobe by intimidation.  To Earl's amazement, the Holy Father stepped to Jobe and shook his hand, he laughed and told Jobe that he admired a fellow that seized an opportunity, especially one that might not come again.   On a sunny afternoon in the Vatican, the business offices of the Pope, the College of Cardinals and the gentle lady in the gift shop, The Pope, the Papal Secretary and two of those serious young men, who only managed smiles after the request of their pontiff, and the 10 members of a random tour group snapped a group photo of what, otherwise,  might not have believed in this fanciful tale.

 

**Chapter 4**

 

            Back in the Vatican courtyard, everything felt different.  Earl couldn't feel his faith like he did just a little while ago and he began to wonder why.  He wasn't sure if the Pope had decided to test him, or tell him some sort of truth, that he really didn't want.  Earl guided his family back to the obelisk in the center of the massive plaza for another prayer.  "Dear Lord,  Please hear our prayer, and know that we ask for nothing, but pray to you, as grateful children.  We have seen more that we'd ever hoped to see and we are blessed.  In your name, we are grateful.".  Earl's family concluded that with faithfulness, but somehow, Earl felt different.  Earl didn't feel the faith he once did.  He felt troubled.  He never felt troubled after a prayer, and that troubled him.

 

            After their day's unexpected adventure, Jobe suggested that it might be time for an early dinner.  Earl admired Jobe for his single minded devotion to keeping his belly full.  Faith added that maybe they could have some time away from their itinerary.  They'd been together for several consecutive days and Earl knew that his kids needed a little time "off the leash".  They'd taken Faith's suggestion that they might want to try authentic Italian pizza and they do a compare and contrast video for their friends back in Simmerston.  Faith, and Jobe, were both creatures of the internet and knew all too well how to make a good video for YouTube.  It turned out that, Faith had done her homework on this one.  She'd spent the 3 weeks between the gifting and the departure learning where an authentic pizza could be found, as well as several other topics she'd been developing.  Miriam was apparently 'in the know' about the new YouTube Channel: "The adventures of Faith, world traveler' and took this all in with a tolerant smile, while Earl, insisted that he would be the executive producer in charge of product release.  Faith had tried several arguments with her father about this, even going so far as to suggest that he might suppress her creativity.  Jobe was the one that had stepped in as the voice of reason and suggested that this might be best discussed, at a dinner table, over a glass of wine, quoting, 'When in Rome'.  He then pointed out that Faith had done the research and that maybe they should trust her scholastic endeavors and let her lead the way.  Jobe earned one out of two, Faith got to pick dinner.

 

            Earl found himself being led by a thirteen year old girl, who, up to a few days ago, hadn't gone much further than the local grocery and maybe a trip to the Grand Canyon.  To her credit, Faith exhibited poise and leadership, she consulted her phone a few times andwith her father literally in hand, led them to a little side walk cafe.  She strode in and asked for Leonardo or Mary.  'Ok', Earl thought, raising an eye brow.  "Why, and how, would my daughter know an Italian man, or woman, or any local for that.., when she...".  He gritted his teeth a bit and looked over his wife.  She smiled at him and nodded.  Apparently, she'd been involved in whatever was happening.  He ungritted, a little.  They sat down in a little family restaurant and a broad shouldered, older, heavy set, kind faced man emerged from the kitchen and became the center of the attention of everyone in the immediate area.

 

            "Do I finally have the pleasure meeting of the famous Faith of America?"  He laughed in accented English.  He then introduced himself to Earl, Miriam and Jobe, and then finally greeted Faith.  "Mr. Earl.  Thank you for bringing your family to my kitchen.  My entire family is excited by your visit.  Faith tells us that you will make us famous in America!".

           

            Earl turned to his daughter, hushed his wife with one upheld finger, warned his son with an upheld palm, looked her in the eye and told her to start explaining.  Faith looked unfazed by this part, she apparently knew this was going to happen and prepared like a New York lawyer.  Earl decided that he was going to have to discuss this with Miriam, possibly in private.  Faith looked her father in the eye and started, "Daddy, Mom knows all about this.  All I did was some research about where we could find a real Italian pizza and then I sent some Emails off to some people I found.  Mom sat with me for all the Email writing and we read them together.  Leonardo's wife, Mary, was one of the people that replied when I told him that we were going to visit Rome and we wanted to try their pizza.  I told her that I wanted to make a video to compare real pizza with pizza from home and I might said that I'd mention their restaurant on my YouTube Channel." 

 

            Earl looked to his wife, who heeded the upheld finger, but nodded in assent.  It seems that this all had been approved.  Earl considered that his wife and children might have been involved in a little more trickery than he thought.  He turned to a broadly grinning form of Leonardo, the pizza maker, and accepted and out stretched hand.  "It seems that my daughter has left out a few details of our trip." Earl grinned.  "Has she already chosen our dinner?".

           

            Leonardo laughed out loud.  "Mr. Earl, I, too, have daughters, I'm glad to see that it's not just my children that cause hairs to turn white.  It seems that your Faith decided to leave this as a gift to you.  I want to assure you, that your daughter dealt with my wife, Mary, and she insisted that she also talk with your wife before they made any plans.  In my many years, my friend, I've learned that it's best for a man to let his wife make the plans, if nothing else, It's easier on my ears.".

 

            Earl noticed that an grinning woman, maybe a few years his elder, had stepped out of the back of the restaurant, followed two olive skinned, young women, both just a few years older that Jobe, and two dark curly haired young men, in their mid twenties, it seemed that both Father and Mother believed that a family business, included the whole family.  Leonardo turned and scooped up his whole family with his broad arms and brought them to meet his new friend; he started with his wife.  She was a short lean woman without a single gray hair, but had those tell tale laugh lines and gentle eyes, that made it clear that she was a parent.  She was the mirror opposite to Leonardo, He was a room filling man with a personality and presence to match, her demeanor suggested she was a more reserved woman, but Earl suspected that her husband might disagree.  To his surprise, Miriam stood and embraced Mary.

 

            "It's wonderful to finally meet you,  I'm so glad we could come to see you today.  Mary, this is my Earl I told you about, and you know Faith, this is her older brother Jobe."  Miriam twinkled with motherhood.  "Introduce us to your family."

 

            After what seemed to be an excessive amount of hugging and such, Earl and Jobe, especially Jobe got down to trying an authentic Italian pizza.  It was a flat bread sort of affair that had the traditional sauce and cheeses, but the toppings where added after the baking.  This added an entirely new element to what they had known and they all knew that the local pizza place back home, would never be the same.  They'd gotten several smaller pizzas and decided that sharing would be the best way to make sure that they covered everything.  Faith had led them in their family blessing and throughout the meal, Faith had taken video and insisted on a few reshoots for a few scenes.  Earl reminded himself that he wanted to ask about this when they got home.  As a finisher to the meal, Faith had decided to interview Leonardo and Mary and express her pleasure at spending time there, she even forced her family into a group photo.  Jobe had casually managed to find himself between Leonardo's daughters; he'd managed to charm then and now he was grinning like an idiot.  It seemed that everyone agreed, Leonardo of Rome was the man to see if you wanted a pizza and Mary was the you spoke to, when you wanted to make arrangements. 

 

            Earl complimented Faith on the quality of her research and then leaned back in his chair to appreciate his full belly, shared a fist bump with his son that had the same idea when, yet again, a larger than life man emerged into the room.

           

            "Mr. Earl, my new American friend, I'm pleased and grateful that you're family has come to meet mine, and even that your daughter is going to make me famous.  But you must take your son away from my daughters.  My girls are beautiful, but he is clever.  I was once a young man too."  Leonardo laughed, casting Jobe a stern look.  Jobe sat there, the icon if innocence, while he exchanged social media information with the two young women.  "Here, this is a gift for you, from Mary and Leonardo of Rome.".

 

            Earl found that a bottle of wine was being forced into his hands.  He looked down and found that the bottle had a picture of Leonardo, Mary and their family.  It was clear that this had been planned.  Earl would have sooner cut off his own hand that hurt this man's feelings.  "Thank you, my friend from Rome.  May your family be blessed.".

 

            Miriam and Earl agreed that a little time apart might be a good thing.  They'd be able to have an adult conversation, without having their children making gagging or smoochie noises, and the kids could have some time away to do, whatever it was they were secretly scheming up.  Miriam gave both Faith and Jobe some shopping money and instructions for them to stay together and to stay out of trouble; Earl applied his traditional dad look.  Miriam also made sure that both had their GPS tracking turned on in their cell phones and marked their Hotel, so in case of emergency, they could find their way back.  Father then pulled his son aside, "We're in Europe and I'm trusting my son with safety of his sister.  Do you understand what that means?",  Earl felt it was time to make sure Jobe knew what his responsibilities were.  Jobe was sixteen and Earl  loved his son, but there comes a time when a father and son talk, as men, this was the first time that needed to happen.

           

            "Dad,", Jobe looked his father in the eye, "That's my sister, I'll look after her, the same way you would, that's what we do.".  He then smirked at his father, a little, "How about you let me try that pipe and Cardigan?".  Jobe's grin was more than a little imprudent, but then he turned serious again, "Dad,  I've got this, we'll be fine.".

 

            Earl and Miriam agreed that Jobe and Faith had the early evening for their own ministrations, but Earl also insisted that he, or grudgingly their mother had final say over anything posted on the internet, social media, YouTube or any of those blasted things.  Jobe and Faith immediately disappeared while Mr. and Mrs. strolled through the ruins of ancient Rome and settled into a sidewalk cafe overlooking the River Tiber.  They sat and sipped a bottle of rose` wine, watching the river traffic and admiring the lights of the historic city.

 

            "Earl, you look distracted, honey.  Is everything ok with you?".

 

            Earl continued to look out over the city, "Distracted by what?  The fact our home town paid several thousand dollars to get rid of me for a few days?  My wife and daughter conspired to video document our trip?  My children are loose in a foreign city on another continent? I got lost in the Vatican and the guards take that sort of thing seriously?  That I had a private conversation with the Pope?  Or that I'm sitting with the love of my life, sipping wine, watching a Roman sunset with pink puffy clouds?

                               

            Miriam chuckled, "I like that last one, but I'm not sure, that's the case."  She leaned over and gently used her palm to turn his gaze to her.  "Look at all of this, it's a lot to take in, but look at what you've done, in just a few days.  You, Pastor Earl, are in Rome with your family, because your town loves you.  You, Mr. Earl, have made several new friends on this trip,  Ignacio and Leonardo to start with, and don't think I didn't see you slip them your E-mail address.  You, Earl the father, have two children that you've raised well enough that you can trust them to be safe in a city four thousand miles away from home. 

 

            "Do you know why I love you?  It's because you have the knack of turning my words back on me and somehow making them worth something."  Earl leaned over and kissed his beloved.  "I'm ok, I'm just a little rattled.  I'm still pretty sure that Swiss Guard wanted to rough me up a little, and it's a startling thing to speak to the head of your church.  Miriam, it was crazy!  He knew I spoke Italian and he even knew my name!  Tell me that's not scary?"

 

            "You told me that he explained that.  You also told me that he thinks he's funny.  If you were the Pope, would you take the jokes when you can?".

 

            "Well, yeah, but it's still unnerving.  It's just really surreal that he and I prayed together.  I'm still trying to wrap my head around that."

 

            The rest of the 'Adventures of Faith, world traveler', went without significant incident.    They visited Palermo and Pompeii, winding up with Tuscany and then returning to Naples.  Earl made a point of visiting Father Ignacio and pointing out that his 'inside information' to the Pope had nearly caused him a heart attack.  Ignacio laughed and invite them all for dinner on their final evening , concluding with Earl insisting that he was their guest and they were honored to see to his meal and his company.  Earl won the discussion arguing that a man of the cloth, such as Ignacio, took a vow of poverty and he shouldn't spend his evening washing dishes.

 

**Chapter 5**

Earl and his family returned to Bozeman airport to find a suedo-parade waiting for him.  Old Paul, Sara and a crowd of others awaited them at the terminal.  It seemed there was a running joke among them.  All of them, to the last, toted a sign of some sort.  Most of them said 'Welcome home Pastor', but a good part of that number included Miriam, one  went so far as to welcome Jobe home from prison, was undoubtedly the work of the pancake advocacy group, and a few pointed out that 'Faith, world traveler' had made her triumphant return.  Earl and his family greeted them all warmly, and allowed that the children could ride back home with their friends.  Earl and Miriam were grateful that Old Paul has brought their own vehicle, they enjoyed the luxury of some peace and quiet before settling back in.

 

            In the next few weeks, Miriam, who had become chief executive in charge of production for 'The Adventures of Faith, world traveler' had reviewed all the gathered footage from their adventure, and there was a lot of it.  It seemed that Faith kept her phone in her hand and had even managed to get a picture of Jobe getting a picture with the Pope.  Miriam finally approved the release of all the edited recordings and Faith became famous.  Consequently , Leonardo's business boomed, Jobe and Leonardo's sons and daughters enjoyed the attention, Miriam found herself explaining all about their trip, and Earl decided that he didn't know what to make of the whole thing, he couldn't reconcile what happened.

 

            Earl had returned to his parish and duties to his little church.  He found that everything was as he left it, almost down to the papers on his desk.  He found that Old Paul had been serious in his efforts to look after the flock.  For days, he found lists of sins that had been committed in his absence, some as small as fibbing about how attractive a new hat might me, some as serious as a man stealing from the collection plate.  Earl was well aware that these things were the usual events of his town, but found that he didn't have the same conviction to address them as he had a couple months ago.  Earl was troubled by that, he was troubled by his conversations in the Vatican, he was troubled that when he prayed, and was no longer sure someone was listening.  Earl was troubled. 

 

            He sat in his office and decided that he needed to make a decision about it.  He decided that this was a test of faith.   He considered that he might need to divest this truth, but quickly threw out that idea.  He worked it out, in his mind, that the Pontiff had again been poking fun with him.  Nothing else made sense.  Why would a truth so grim be entrusted to a country pastor that had only gotten turned around on a tour path of one of the most well known places on the planet.  Earl had decided that his faith was up to this test and the Lord would see him through this.  He decided that there was no value in sharing what was said and that it was just something that was said in jest.  Earl went about his business.

 

            A few weeks after their return, there was yet again a 'church function'.  This wasn't planned through his church offices, but by the community at large, with the Mayor's offices doing the spearheading for the party.  It turned out, that Old Paul and Sara had the Mayor's ear and convinced him that the town of Simmerston should welcome back it's favorite son with a BBQ at the park, complete with a bounce house and Hokey Pokey contest.  Earl, and Miriam both, circulated through the crowd telling stories and sharing pictures.  Faith and Jobe set about to basking the glory in being a local celebrity, they did well with that.

 

            Over the next few months, as the excitement of his travels settled into history, Earl thought hard about his decision about his faith.  He was resolute that this was a test, but couldn't shake the feeling that begun in the courtyard of the Vatican, following his meeting the Pope.  He'd done the best he could to pick up where he left off, but it kept nagging at  him, what if it wasn't a joke.  He kept pushing that out of his mind.  It had to be a test.  He'd decided that a test of faith, for a Pastor, was an absolute test, and one that wasn't to be shared,  If the leader of a flock was to be tested, that was his burden.  Earl continued to conduct Sunday sermons, he did his happy dance and went about church business.  He'd presided over a few marriages and other ceremonies, but found it harder and harder to keep up his tasks.

 

            Miriam watched her husband as he went about his duties.  They'd been together for 20 years and she knew his quirks.  She could see that he had a conflict, she watched, that was all she could do.  He tried his best to keep up his 'game face' but she could see something in his demeanor that only she knew was there.  Her husband was wrestling with something, whether he admitted it or not.

 

            Three months after their return from Rome, Earl awoke in the middle of the night.  He sat straight up in bed.  At first he wasn't sure why he was awake.  He didn't remember dreaming about anything, he didn't hear a noise and his wife was gently snoring.  Nothing was out or order here.  Earl shook it off and tried to blame the extra pepperoni on their pizza this evening, and settled back in for the evening.  Two nights later he found himself awake again, at three AM, for no good reason.  This time sleep alluded him.  He sat in his kitchen, sipping coffee and watching the sunrise.  They were the same puffy pink clouds he'd seen in Rome.  Things moved along more frequently after that and started to take a toll on Pastor Earl of Simmerston, Montana.

 

            One night, Earl sat straight up in bed, again.  He was drenched in sweat, again.  He remembered his dream this time.  This was the first time he remembered anything.  His mind replayed his trip to the Vatican.  He watched, like a spirit, as he was left behind at a fresco, as he opened and rushed back through a door and when he knelt with the Pope.  Of all this, the only words he heard were the words those fateful ones, "God was created by the hands of men.  Everything you think you know is a lie.".  Those were the only words he heard.  His dream marched on, he saw that Jobe was asking the Pope for a picture, but he also saw Faith, she had a rose in her hand.  She was looking at him, with a question in her eyes.

 

            Over the following weeks, Miriam watched as her husband slipped out of bed at the dark hours of the morning.  she wasn't sure what was happening, but she was sure her husband was troubled.  Since their return from Rome, she pretended sleep on at least a dozen occasions where Earl woke up suddenly.  She'd stayed motionless as he slipped from their bed and went to his study.  Each time she heard the bedroom door close, she'd wait a 5 count, listen for footsteps and then reach over to feel his side of the bed; it was always damp with sweat.  This was the night she decided that she couldn't wait any longer.  Somehow, she knew that she needed to act.

 

            Miriam slipped on her bathrobe and padded softly down the hall, past the kitchen and opened the door to her husband's study.  She looked in and saw him sitting, staring blankly out the window, he had a glass of bourbon his his hand; not something usual, but not completely out of the ordinary; she also knew this wasn't the first glass, or bottle of bourbon.  "Honey, what's going on?  You've been distracted ever since we got back from Italy.  Sweetheart, tell me what's wrong."

            "It's nothing, sweetie, just restless sleep." Earl tried to sell the explanation to his wife.  He was still determined to not share his problems.

 

            "Earl, honey, I'm not dumb you know.  So talk to me.  I know you've been having bad dreams.  I know about your sweat soaked pillow, and I know that isn't your first bottle of bourbon.  Do you want me to tell you what number it is?"  She was careful to keep her tone soft.  She knew that if she pushed too hard, her husband would withdraw.  Earl took his duties as a husband, father and pastor seriously.  She also knew that he was a bit hard headed and tended to shoulder the world by himself.  "We've been married for the best years of my life, and everything we've done, we've done together."  Miriam stepped over in front of her husband's chair , knelt down, took his hands and asked him. "Honey, what's wrong?"

 

            He looked at her, he imagined, the same way a man might look upon an angel. Right here, in front of him, was the best person he ever knew.  He was lucky to wear the ring matching hers.  In a soft cloth robe, a reddish auburn haired angel, of unmatched beauty and wisdom, visited a simple country pastor.  His angel had laugh lines, crystal blue eyes and a smile that could chase away a thundercloud.  He almost regretted that she could see through him; almost.

 

            "Really, it's nothing...  It's just some bad dreams".  Earl tried again to sell his story.

            "That's the fifth bottle in four weeks.  You don't get up every night, but at least three nights a week, and it's bad dreams?"  Miriam continued to be gentle.  Pushing wouldn't help, all she could do, was admit that she saw him struggling.

 

            Earl sat for a long time and stared out the window, then he reached forward and stroked her hair.  He refilled his glass,  "Are you sure you want this?  I don't want to give this to you.  You can go back to bed and I'll be happy right here.".

           

            "When have I ever left your side?  Tell me, Earl, Let me help.", she stood up long enough to sit his lap.

            Earl stared out the window for a few more minutes, he hoped she'd decide to go back to bed.  His mind took him back, and as clear as he saw it, the words came out of him, "It was something the Pope told me.  It was when I got lost in the Vatican, I opened a door I shouldn't have and, apparently, heard what I shouldn't have".  Earl took another drink, emptying his glass.  "He told me that God was created by the hands of men.  Miriam felt the catch in his voice.  "He told me that everything I know is a lie."  He choked out.  He refilled and drained his glass.

 

            She leaned into him and cradled his head in her arms against her breast.  She could feel him struggling to keep himself intact.  To Miriam everything made sense now, he was having a crisis of faith, or maybe he'd already lost.

 

            "Earl, Honey...".  She didn't know what to say.  She thought of several things at once, but to a broken country pastor, none of those things had a chance.  'Faith in his plan'?, no', 'trust in his wisdom'?, not right now.  she knew, without knowing why, that Earl needed a rock to hold on too, and she needed to be that rock.

 

            "What do you want to do?".  She knew that she needed to let him work some of this out.

            He worked at pulling himself together.  "I'm doing what I need to be doing, I'm faking it."  Earl replied, in a matter of fact voice.  "I'm just not sure I can pay this price.  Lying."  Suddenly, he just blurted out, "I don't what this truth!, it's too big!"  After several seconds he spoke in a small voice, "What am I supposed to do now?"

 

            An idea struck her, "What if you weren't lying?"

 

            "What?"

 

            Miriam's face turned serious and resolute; that was a look he seldom saw.  She squared herself.  "What if we make it true?  We can do that."  She paused and looked out his window, into the same night sky.  "How does what we know, help this town?  They need us, they need faith, they can't get along without it. "  Miriam stood, filled his glass and emptied in one motion, "You're their Pastor and I'm their Pastor's wife,  we can do this together.  I'll trade my piece of mind for theirs, and I know you'll make that trade too.".

           

            Earl looked out his window into the starless night sky.  Finally, he nodded and allowed his wife to lead him back to bed. 

 

**Chapter 6**

 

            As the days rolled from one to the next, he managed to work out that what he was doing was for the good of his flock.  He convinced himself that his town needed him and he was right in his work.  In the typical week, he had several visits from the various people about various things.  He was the coach of the church baseball team and more often than not, he was an impromptu mediator for whatever problems found their way into his offices.  As usual Old Paul liked to stop by and gossip about the goings on down at the diner, barbershop and hardware store; Paul was a busy man.  The  Mayor called on him on occasion for his opinion and the folks down at the retirement home, liked to see him come around.  He was usually bringing something from Miriam's kitchen and that drew a lot of attention. 

 

            He still wasn't sleeping well though and he tried very hard to hide that from his wife.  Some nights he'd sleep, some he wouldn't.  Sometimes, his dreams would take him to wonderful adventures and others, he'd see his family standing in the Vatican, looking at him.  curiously, or not, they would be holding roses.  This was his burden.  She would, on occasion, find him in his study and he'd pretend to be working.  He wanted to think that she believed him, but he knew better.  He knew she was going along and trying to give him time and space. 

 

            Miriam, kept her watch and her silence.  She watched her husband struggle, it had been 6 months since she'd begun to see changes in her husband.  Changes that should have taken a couple more years for him to develop.  His hair has gotten a bit grayer, a bit faster, he was moving a tiny bit slower, not enough for anyone to notice, but enough that she did.  His legendary mediocrity on a basket ball court was just rarity now, he only participated when challenged, contrasting to when he'd just jump in and play badly.  He was losing his energy faster, he seemed to be walking under the weight of the world.  He was losing and there wasn't anything she could do.

 

            For two more years, a Pastors wife watched a Pastor deteriorate faster that he should have.  He put up a good show though, she gave him credit for that.  He was the same energetic Pastor on Sunday mornings, the same guy that, when in front of his kids, or flock, would argue that his Montana omelet was superior to the Denver frittata, and he was the same man that went back for more of those pan fried potatoes.  In private though, she knew why he didn't walk as fast as he used to, or laugh as loudly.  And why he didn't sleep at night, not anymore.  Since that one early morning, they'd never again spoke about what happened in Rome or what they spoke about in his study.  Since then, she frequently gave him gentle reassuring touches, rubbing his arm or shoulder as she walked by him, or when he was sitting at his desk, working on a sermon.  She wanted to ask him about how he felt, but she could see it in his eyes.  When no one else was looking, she saw the price he was paying.  That was the only way, he let her know, that they really did have that conversation and the deal they made.  She understood that he was still struggling with the enormity of what he was told, and those touches told him, louder than words, that she'd be where she needed to be, when he needed her to be there.  With each of her touches, he replied with his own, more often than not, kissing her hand or fingers.  Each time she reminded him that she was there, he felt at peace, even if for a few minutes.

 

            With every touch he felt and gave back, he understood what she was trying to do.  He just didn't know how to express his part.  He tried very hard to not to withdraw from his marriage and for the most part, he succeeded.  They talked and went to dinner, to the movies and watched the kids grow.  Jobe was about to graduate high school and he was terrified of teaching Faith 'the world traveler' how to drive; he managed to foist that off onto his wife.  It was those quiet times though, where there weren't any distractions, that he felt the void.  Inevitably those where the times, where his angel appeared before him.  Almost like she knew his mind.  Pastor Earl was a smart man, he knew she really did, and he loved her for that.

 

            One crisp, gray Sunday morning, Earl was practicing his usual ritual, he was fixing breakfast.  At Jobe's suggestion, he was trying his hand at French toast.  He'd fixed a significant amount too, Jobe was as big as a man now, and getting ready to head off to college on a baseball scholarship.  Faith was a more genteel eater, but, she too, knew the value of a strip of crispy bacon.  That morning Miriam had decided that she wanted to lead her family in their breakfast prayer.  While this wasn't the usual, it wasn't quite rare either, Miriam was sometimes a puzzle. 

 

            "Dear Lord, thank you for this bounty and thank you for my wonderful family.  Please Bless each of us, one and all, and know that we share our lives with you.  ...And if Earl should, once again, insist that an omelet is not a frittata, please smite is little toe with a coffee table.  In your name we give thanks.".

 

            After the 'Amens', there might have been a few chuckles and perhaps a soft kick under the table.  In this moment, Earl had his family and their joy to bask in; in that moment, that was all that mattered.

 

            Later that morning, Earl and Miriam hopped into his car, while Faith convinced her brother to let her drive his truck.  Faith has gotten her learner's permit a few months prior and was eager to get behind the wheel.  Jobe promptly donned a batters helmet and Faith gunned the accelerator out of the driveway.  Earl shook his head and sighed; Miriam kissed his cheek, "Let's go, Pastor.".

 

            Earl conducted the morning services and had begun to wrap up the sermon with a prayer.  Miriam stopped listening.  She had a different prayer in mind this morning.  "Dear Lord,  My Earl has been struggling for a long time with a truth that was thrust upon him.  Lord he's one of the best men you've ever created and he needs you now.  Please God, please give him peace."

 

            Miriam looked up from her prayer when she felt a gentle breeze ruffle through her hair.  She watched Earl leading them.  "... In your name we pray, and in your salvation we'll be found.  Amen.".   In that moment, a moment that she hadn't seen since before Rome, she saw the light had broken through the cloudy Autumn morning.  Once again, finally, washing over the small town pastor of Simmerston, Montana.


End file.
